


Amorous

by sciencefictioness



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Eren Gets Wooed, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Poly Eren, Polyamory, Vaguely Aromantic Levi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-29 16:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16747870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness
Summary: Eren bites his lip, cheeks a bit pink— he’ll blame it on the alcohol if Levi calls him out, but they both know better— and lets Erwin guide his hands.  The cue slides through them, hitting the cue ball and sending it rolling across the table.  There are drunken cheers from somewhere off to the left, but Eren isn’t paying attention.  He’s turning into Erwin, eyes almost closed, breathing in deep.It’s obvious to anyone looking closely enough.  Eren has never been subtle.Levi isn’t the only one watching them with no interest in who wins or loses the game.  Mike leans against the wall across the room, smirking as Erwin pulls back from Eren.  Slowly, palms lingering on his forearms a moment too long, still in Eren’s space.  Eren flusters and goes to line up his next shot, circling the table to put distance between himself and Erwin, who’s watching with shameless appreciation.When Mike notices he’s been caught staring he grins wider, rolling his eyes in faux exasperation, and Levi snorts into his beer.Eren has been doing this dance with the two of them for a while now; one step forward, two steps back.  It was cute at first— endearing.  Adorable.Now Levi just wants to shake him.





	1. Hustle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arlene0401](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlene0401/gifts).



> For frau, with love, and also pining.

It’s subdued, as far as parties go; quiet music, no smoke filling the air, people mingling unobtrusively throughout the house.  Levi would rather not be here at all, but he can only bow out of so many social functions before everyone starts whining about it.  Listening to his friends complain is more trouble than showing up now and again, so here he is, albeit somewhat grudgingly. Erwin’s place is big enough that he can escape upstairs if he feels the urge, except Levi’s having an uncharacteristically good time.  It’s not that he’s doing anything particularly interesting— sitting on a worn out couch, nursing a warm beer, just this side of tipsy.

 

It’s the view that has him relaxing into the cushions, mouth curving into an amused grin.

 

Eren’s playing pool.  Trying to play pool, anyway.  He’s holding the cue just wrong enough that it’s frustrating to watch, missing every shot, balls rolling wide again and again.  He’s losing, badly, and Levi would feel sorry for him if it wasn’t such bullshit.

 

Eren is better at pool than anyone in the room.  Levi’s seen him hustle drunk frat boys out of their cash more times than he can count, just because he can.  There’s no money on the table right now, but Eren is still hustling, even if no one else has noticed. 

 

Erwin sidles up behind him, taking the bait beautifully, pressing in close.  He corrects Eren’s hold on the cue, leans down into him as they line up a shot together, mouth moving next to Eren’s ear as he gives soft instructions.  Eren bites his lip, cheeks a bit pink— he’ll blame it on the alcohol if Levi calls him out, but they both know better— and lets Erwin guide his hands. The cue slides through them, hitting the cue ball and sending it rolling across the table.  There are several satisfying clicks, a chain reaction, and two separate balls sink home. There are drunken cheers from somewhere off to the left, but Eren isn’t paying attention. He’s turning into Erwin, eyes almost closed, breathing in deep.

 

It’s obvious to anyone looking closely enough.  Eren has never been subtle.

 

Levi isn’t the only one watching them with no interest in who wins or loses the game.  Mike leans against the wall across the room, smirking as Erwin pulls back from Eren. Slowly, palms lingering on his forearms a moment too long, still in Eren’s space.  Eren flusters and goes to line up his next shot, circling the table to put distance between himself and Erwin, who’s watching with shameless appreciation. 

 

Wen Mike notices he’s been caught staring he grins wider, rolling his eyes in faux exasperation, and Levi snorts into his beer. 

 

Eren has been doing this dance with the two of them for a while now; one step forward, two steps back.  It was cute at first— endearing. Adorable.

 

Now Levi just wants to shake him.

 

Eren sits down next to him after throwing the round in spectacular fashion, and Levi puts his beer on the floor, takes Eren’s face in his hands, and kisses him.  Chaste and fast, thoughtlessly familiar. Eren smiles, brows furrowed, and Levi holds his gaze.

 

“For someone so smart, you’re being very stupid.”

 

Eren whines and tucks his face into Levi’s neck.

 

“I know.”

 

Levi runs his fingers through Eren’s hair, and picks up his beer again, finishing it in one loud swallow.  Erwin and Mike are watching them, a little rueful, and Levi just shrugs one shoulder helplessly. 

 

He’s done all he can for now.

 

-

 

The ride home is agonizingly silent, eating away at Levi until he can’t take it anymore.  One too many beers, and he can’t bite his tongue like he normally might, can’t keep the words from spilling out.

 

“We’ve talked about this,” Levi says, and Eren sighs.

 

“I know we have.”

 

The same conversation over and over, but Levi can’t seem to make him understand.  They’d talked about Eren dating other people close to a year ago, and ever since Levi had suggested it, Eren had seemed enthusiastic about the idea.  Floored that he wouldn’t mind, that he wouldn’t be jealous or hurt, that Levi didn’t feel slighted. Except then it had all been hypothetical.

 

Erwin and Mike’s eager, unabashed flirtation was very real, and Eren didn’t seem to know how to deal with it.

 

“You still think you’re not allowed,” Levi says, and Eren makes a noise of disagreement.

 

“It’s not that I’m not  _ allowed,  _ it just… feels weird.  Especially with you  _ right there.” _

 

“I wouldn’t have to be  _ right there  _ if you’d just ask them out. Separately, together.  They won’t care, they’ll just be excited.”

 

Eren isn’t the only person Levi’s had frank, open conversations with, laying all his cards on the table.  Some of Eren’s cards, too, if only vaguely. Levi hasn’t spelled it out for Eren in so many words, but Mike and Erwin know how Levi feels about Eren seeing other people— how he feels about Eren seeing them, specifically.  But Levi can’t fight all his battles for him.

 

There are some things he needs to do for himself.  

 

Eren shifts in the driver’s seat as he changes gears, carrying them smoothly through the empty suburban streets towards home.

 

“I  _ can’t.” _

 

“Why not?  You want to, they want to.  I want you to. I want you be happy.”  

 

The lengths Levi would go to in order to make Eren happy are embarrassingly staggering; Levi has long since stopped being surprised by the things he would do, just to see Eren smile.

 

“You’re happy now, though.  With me. Aren’t you?” Eren asks, and Levi frowns.

 

“Of course I am?  We’re literally married, Eren.  We painted the kitchen  _ olive,  _ I don’t know what else you want from me.”

 

“Happy with  _ just  _ me,” Eren adds.  “And I’m happy with just you!  I love you. I don’t want to fuck up our relationship being…”  

 

“Being what?”  Levi asks when Eren trails off, but they both know what he doesn’t want to say.

 

Greedy.  Selfish. Eren knows better, but Levi can only tell him the same thing so many times before it gets tiring for them both.  Levi has tried to wait it out, to see if it’s just a passing crush that Eren will get over.

 

Six months later, though, and Eren is still making eyes at Levi’s friends.  Still staring, and flirting. Asking about them when they’re not around, stalking their Instagram accounts.

 

Hustling them at pool, just so Erwin will put his hands on him.  

 

Levi takes a breath, and lets it out slow.

 

“I love you.  Part of that is me wanting to give you the things you want, the things that will make you happy.  This is something you want, and there’s nothing wrong with it. I can’t  _ give  _ it to you, but I can tell you that it’s okay to to go for it.  I know Erwin, I know Mike. I trust them, and I trust you.”

 

Eren is quiet for a long, long time, and when he speaks it’s whisper soft.

 

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

 

Levi lays his hand over Eren’s on the gearshift, thumb rubbing across his knuckles, fingers curling around his wrist.

 

“You don’t get to decide how I feel about things.  You only get to decide what you do. I trust you, and I love you.  They could too, one day, maybe. If you gave them a chance.”

 

_ If you gave yourself a chance,  _ he thinks, but Eren already looks overwhelmed, so he doesn’t say any more.  

 

By the time they get home, he’s just drunk enough to fire off a text to Mike and Erwin.

 

_ This boy is ridiculous.  We’re all going to die old, ugly men before he makes a move.  Ball is in your court. _

  
  
  



	2. Courtly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one hits real close to home, oof.

There’s a knock at the door sometime around noon, and Eren frowns at it accusingly from the couch as he pauses the game he’s playing.  

 

He frowns more when he answers it to find a delivery person standing there holding a huge bouquet of flowers, a six pack of some kind of beer he doesn’t recognize, and a red envelope.  Eren furrows his brows and squints one eye suspiciously, head cocked to the side. 

 

He wonders for a moment what awful thing Levi could possibly have done that would necessitate sending Eren something like this before he got home from work in a few hours.  

 

Eren loves Levi more than life itself, but he is not the kind of person who buys flowers or goes on dinner dates, and Eren has never tried to force it.  Romantic gestures are not Levi’s strong suit, and that’s fine; Eren doesn’t need roses or wine to know that Levi cares about him. They have been through enough rocky patches and near-misses in their relationship to know what works and what doesn’t.  

 

Levi having flowers delivered bodes very, very ill.

 

“Delivery for Eren Jaeger,” the man says, setting the beer down at his feet and pulling out a handheld tablet, “could I get you to sign?”

 

He scribbles his name on the screen with his index finger, taking the proffered items with confusion etched into his features.  The delivery person tells him to have a nice day, and he echoes it back distractedly before heading inside and kicking the door shut behind him.  Eren doesn’t smell the flowers, doesn’t look at the beer.

 

If this is some kind of bribe to convince Eren it’s really not so bad if Levi’s uncle comes to visit, he’s not taking the bait.  Levi can take his pretty flowers, and his fancy looking bottles of booze, and shove them; he’ll go stay at a hotel before he sleeps in the same house as Kenneth fucking Ackerman again.  Eren sets the beer and flowers down on the coffee table, glass clinking softly, plastic around the bouquet crinkling.

 

Then he opens the card, reads what’s written there, and flushes hot.  The flowers aren’t from Levi. Of course they’re not.

 

Eren covers his face with one hand, peeking through his fingers, making an embarrassing noise in the back of his throat.  Like he needs to hide from someone, when there is no one else in the house. There are two notes, written in different handwriting.  One is messy, scrawled across half of the card, the printing wildly uneven.

 

_ You didn’t get a chance to have any last night, so we decided to send some to you.  You looked like you wanted a taste. _

 

_ -Mike _

 

The other note is written in delicate, swirling cursive on the opposite side of the card, letters perfectly precise.

 

_ Let us take you to dinner this Friday, or cook you something at our place?  Only if you’d like, of course.  _

 

_ -Erwin _

 

There is a phone number underneath Erwin’s name;  a number Levi already has in his phone, but this is different.  This isn’t Mike and Erwin texting Levi, asking how Eren’s doing, having Levi tell him they say hello.  Liking things he puts on Twitter and Instagram, replying to his selfies with hearts. 

 

This is them asking Eren out on an actual, honest-to-god  _ date. _  Eren takes another look at the beer only to realize yes, it’s the same thing Levi was drinking the night before— some fancy single batch custom brewed nonsense that probably costs more than Eren is comfortable thinking about.

 

He picks up the bouquet, a riot of orange and white petals that he has no hope of identifying.  Eren’s never actually gotten any before now, he doesn’t know shit about flowers other than how to kill them by accident.  He isn’t even sure they have a vase in the house. Eren presses them to his face and breaths in the soft scent of them, something light and fragile that lingers in his nose.

 

Erwin sent him flowers.  Mike sent him  _ beer.   _ It’s so very  _ them  _ that Eren laughs, all alone in his living room, before a wave of something like guilt washes over him. 

 

There’s a ring on his finger.  

 

Levi’s ring, and Eren’s standing in their house, holding flowers he’s gotten from another man.  Thinking about someone else with heat curling low in his stomach and rising in his cheeks. Eren wants them, and it isn’t just about fucking them, or getting fucked— he wants them to pet through his hair, to whisper things quietly into his skin, to hold him close as he drifts off to sleep.  Wants sex, but also affection, and that feels worse, somehow. 

 

It’s okay.  

 

He knows it’s okay, but that doesn’t stop the knee-jerk sense of wrong from welling up, as though he’s doing something he shouldn’t.  Like he’s betraying Levi, when it’s Levi who started all this in the first place.

 

_ It’s okay to want someone that isn’t me, I don’t mind sharing. _

 

Eren sends Levi a text, lightning fast.

 

_ Erwin sent me flowers.  Mike sent some beer? They asked me out on a date. _

 

Quick and simple, like he’s confessing some crime he’s committed.  Eren stares at his phone while he waits for a reply, a little bit queasy, breathing too hard.  His palms are sweating, the collar of his shirt too tight, the whole house stifling hot. It isn’t long before Levi answers him, dots pulsing on the screen as he types.  Eren never looks away, but when the message comes through with a buzz, he jumps anyway.

 

_ Fucking finally.  I’m happy for you.   _

 

Stark relief rushes through his veins, and there are a few moments of silence, followed by-

 

_ You haven’t answered them, have you.  You texted me first instead of answering them. _

 

It’s accusatory.  

 

Eren can hear it from miles away without Levi saying a single word, can see the wrinkle between his eyebrows as he furrows them, the flat, unhappy line of his mouth.  He wavers, not wanting to admit Levi’s right but unwilling to bullshit him, and another text comes through as he’s waffling over what to respond.

 

_ Eren.   _

 

It says a lot more than his name.  Eren can read in between the lines, can feel Levi’s fond but ever present exasperation.  

 

The countless conversations they’ve had.  Levi’s unwavering insistence that Eren stop denying himself things, and reach out to take what he wants.  

 

That he deserves to be happy.

 

Eren lets out groan of frustration, and smacks his phone against his forehead, just once.

 

_ Okay, okay, relax!  I’ll answer them! _

 

There is nothing from Levi after that, and Eren looks at the phone number on the card, entering it haltingly into his contacts.  It looks illicit there, Erwin’s name among all his close friends. A few casual words, and Eren will be going out on a date with two absurdly attractive men who, for some reason, want to spend time with him.  

 

Men who aren’t his husband.

 

A knot of anxiety twists in his guts, useless and unwelcome, and Eren takes a deep breath, and lets it out slow.

 

_ It’s okay.  I’m allowed. _

 

Eren taps out a text before he can talk himself out of it.

 

_ This is Eren.  I got the flowers you sent me :D  Do you still uhhhh… _

 

Eren can’t even finish his sentence.  He hits send and throws his phone down onto the couch, fleeing to another room like the distance will help keep him safe.  When it buzzes he can still hear it, though, and runs back to snatch it up like an idiot. The reply pops up immediately, and Eren makes another pitiful noise at the empty room.

 

_ Want to take you out?  Yes we do. If you’re interested. _

 

Eren’s hands are shaking when he answers, lip bitten between his teeth— it wasn’t like this with Levi all those years ago.  They fell into one another so slow it ached, until they were suddenly just  _ there.   _ Inseparable, tangled up together.  The rings on their fingers were more formality than anything else.

 

Eren has been Levi’s for a long long time, and that isn’t ever going to change, but  _ this. _

 

This is new.  Butterflies in his stomach, heart fluttering in his chest.  

 

_ I’d like that, yeah. _

 

Only a few seconds passes between his text and Erwin’s reply, and they are eternal, and tortuous.

 

_ We’re looking forward to it. _

 

There is a number next, one Eren doesn’t recognize, but it isn’t hard to guess.

 

_ Mike doesn’t text much, and he’ll act like it doesn’t bother him, but he’ll be jealous if you don’t have it.  He’s already been telling me I don’t know enough about pool to teach you properly. _

 

Eren’s smile is so wide it hurts.

 

_ I can be a slow learner ;) _

 

_ Oh, I bet you can be a lot of things. _

 

It’s going to be a very long week.


	3. Odds

“Don’t do it.”

Levi isn’t fucking around. Eren can tell by the tone of his voice, but he runs his palms down the green plaid of his shirt anyway, hesitating.

“But I think maybe the blue one would-”

“Don’t. Fucking. Do it, Eren. You’re going to be late. You’ve changed clothes a dozen times, which is ridiculous, considering they’ve seen all these clothes before. They aren’t strangers you’re trying to impress. It’s Mike and Erwin. They’re already impressed, okay? Just go.”

Eren fists his hands in the soft fabric underneath them, looking at the floor, nerves eating him alive. It’s not the clothes that have him second guessing himself, really.

It’s leaving Levi at home, and going to Mike and Erwin’s to be wined and dined. Hoping, with a quietly excited part of himself, for something it still feels like he’s not really supposed to have. 

Something that might hurt Levi, in spite of how much Levi himself insists otherwise. He shifts from one foot to the other, and lets out a rough breath.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

Levi’s hands settle on either side of his face. He tugs Eren down, lifting up on his toes to close the distance between them and pressing a kiss to his forehead. When he pulls back he holds Eren’s gaze, brows together, so earnest it makes Eren ache.

“You want to go. I want you to go. You’ve been to their house dozens of times already. It’s steaks and beer in their backyard, and pool in the basement, not some black tie dinner you need to be nervous about. You’ll listen to music and flirt and talk shit about all Mike’s favorite sports teams. Maybe they give you a goodnight kiss.” Levi drops his hands from Eren’s face and tangles their fingers together. “Erwin’s too much of a goddamn romantic to try fucking you on the first date, and Mike is gonna follow his lead, even if he would probably rail you on the pool table if you asked.”

Eren can’t help but huff out a laugh at that; the idea makes him feel hot all over. Makes him want to twist in place— Levi knows it, too, if the glint in his eyes is anything to go by. He straightens Eren’s shirt, brushing wrinkles out of the fabric, tugging it down where Eren has rumpled it.

“I love you. I have for a long time, and there is nothing you can do that would change that. Get your ass out of here. Okay?” 

He squares his shoulders and nods, leaning down to give Levi one last kiss on the corner of his mouth before turning to head towards the door. Levi smacks his ass once, and Eren grins as he fishes his keys out of the glass bowl by the door. 

“Use a condom!” Levi shouts, louder than necessary, a smile in his voice.

Eren startles and slams his head into the doorframe.

It’s easier to leave after that, flipping Levi off as he slips out the door.

-

It’s not just leaving.

Everything is easier after that.

Being with Mike and Erwin is no different than it has always been, except that they’re a little more shameless in their flirtation. They stand closer, and touch Eren more— palms resting at the small of his back, fingertips dragging over his forearms when they pass, brushing hair gently out of his eyes. Finding any excuse, and when there isn’t one, they just… touch him anyway.

They stare like they want to do so much more, but they’re patient, and they don’t push. Mike cooks, as always; Eren isn’t sure Erwin knows how. The food is delicious, and the beer is cold, the sun dropping low behind the treeline as they sit on the back porch and argue good-naturedly about Erwin’s awful taste in music.

Erwin insists that classical music isn’t boring, and Eren and Mike counter that it is, in fact, the worst. Mike is a lot more vehement about it, which probably stems from just how much of it he’s had to listen to over the years, were Eren to guess.

Eren is buzzed and smiling when they finally make their way downstairs into the basement where the pool table sits. Mike wants to show Eren ‘how it’s really done’, and Eren hides a smirk behind his beer bottle, and nods his assent.

He lets Mike rack up the balls, and listens obediently as Mike gives him pointers. About racking, and breaking, and how to hold the cue; it’s all good advice.

Exactly the kind of things Eren would tell someone who’d never played pool before, and he watches Mike take his first few shots with genuine interest, sinking three solids without much effort. When he misses on his fourth try he holds the cue out towards Eren, taking a couple of steps to one side to get a better angle on one of the stripes. Eren puts his beer down and walks over, trying not to grin too wide as he steps into Mike’s space.

Mike is a lot more shameless in the way he puts his hands on Eren than Erwin had been the previous weekend. Whether it’s Eren’s obvious interest in them, or just the way Mike is, Eren doesn’t really know. He lets Mike guide him into position, leaning into him, catching Erwin’s eyes from across the table as they line up the shot together. 

When Mike steps back to let him take it by himself Eren winks at Erwin, and then sinks two of his balls at once. Mike whistles. Erwin looks suspicious, albeit in an amused sort of way. Eren walks around the table and lines up his next shot. He’s not looking at the ball when it drops into the pocket; he’s looking at Mike, biting his lip around a smile. Again, and again, balls hitting home each time, clacking into one another. When Eren finally pots the eight ball in a corner pocket Erwin laughs out loud.

“You’re a tease,” he says, and Eren shrugs, twirling the pool cue artfully in front of him before laying it down on the table. 

“I wanted some hands on instruction.”

“Did you now?” Erwin asks with a hum, finishing the last of his drink.

Mike rounds the table and crowds Eren against it, his hands on Eren’s hips, one curling around his back to slide up his spine. He lifts Eren’s chin, their faces an inch apart, eyes lit with heat.

“We can give you as much of that as you like.”

Eren stands up on his toes— bizarre, to be the shortest one in the room, to be the one reaching. He stops with Mike’s mouth almost, not quite, against his own, and grins.

“Promise?” He asks, and Mike presses his lips to Eren’s, gentle but insistent.

Mike kisses him soft and slow and wet, and when he pulls back Erwin is there to pick up his slack. He’s less messy, but no less intense. Slick and sliding, making low noises into the kiss, tilting Eren’s head and pressing deeper. Eren is pulled back and forth between the two for a while, breathless and overwhelmed, but Levi was right.

Erwin is too much of a gentleman to do much more, even if Eren does have a pair of hickeys on one side of his throat when they drive him home later. They walk him to the door, and kiss him again, and Eren waves like an idiot as they pull out of his driveway.

Levi’s waiting on the couch watching some god-awful crime show that Eren can’t stand, wearing a smirk. His contentment must be written all over his face, because Levi doesn’t bother asking if he had a good time. Eren lays his head in Levi’s lap, shoves his face into Levi’s stomach, and makes an embarrassing sound.

“That nice, huh?”

Eren just nods. Levi pets through his hair for awhile, grinning, poking at the bruises on Eren’s throat with a teasing look in his eyes.

They go to sleep tangled up together, and Eren can finally breathe again, because it’s okay. Nothing is fucked up, nothing is broken.

He has Levi, and he has Mike and Erwin, and it’s fine. Better than fine.

It’s perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me nice things.


	4. Rhythm

This is all his fault.  

 

Eren did this, and he only has himself to blame.

 

His head throbs in time with his heartbeat, and he is sore all over; like he lost a fight, or fell down some stairs.  Eren shifts in bed, and whimpers, cracking one eyelid open only to close it again immediately. The curtains have been pulled shut, and the light is blessedly muted, but even the dim rays of sun creeping around the outside of the window are enough to have him cringing.  The sheets are stifling, tangled up around his legs, and he tries to kick them free to no avail.

 

“Levi,” he whines, pawing at the mattress beside him, searching for him.  There is a low chuckle, followed by a cool hand brushing sweaty hair out of his eyes.

 

“Nope,” Mike says, and Eren blinks his eyes back open, squinting up at him.  

 

Everything hurts.  He’s never drinking again.

 

He’s especially not trying to keep up with  _ Mike _ again. __ Not his finest moment, and he groans, eyes falling closed.

 

“Where’s Levi?”

 

The night before only comes to him in snatches, blurred at the edges with too much rum, but Levi had definitely been with him at Mike and Erwin’s for most of the party.  

 

“Tucked you in last night and went home.  Said he had to meet his uncle and cousin for breakfast this morning and didn’t want to leave you alone.”

 

Eren hums.  He doesn’t remember being put to bed, but it’s not the first time Levi has left his drunk ass in Mike and Erwin’s care; he’s grateful.

 

He’d much rather be hungover in bed with Mike than hungover listening to Levi’s uncle talk shit, or by himself at home.  Mike slips a hand behind Eren’s shoulders and gently pulls, trying to urge him upright.

 

“Sit up,” he says, and Eren groans again in protest.  

 

“Nnnnnn-nnnn.”

 

“Just for a second, come on,” Mike coaxes.  He lets Mike manhandle him into a sitting position, squinting through the agony in his head.  “Open your mouth.”

 

Eren would make a joke, or mutter something suggestive, but he feels like shit and he doesn’t have it in him.  Lolls out his tongue obediently instead, and Mike drops a few tablets into it, followed quickly by a straw. Eren drinks; the water is cold, and delicious, and he drains half the glass before flopping back down on the pillows.

 

“Spoiled,” Mike says, scratching through his hair, and Eren leans into the touch.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Mike kisses his cheek.  An icepack is pressed to his head, and Eren moans, clutching at it gratefully.  The blankets are pulled away from his legs, replaced with only the sheet, and Eren nestles into the bed with a sigh.

 

“I’ll wake you up again when I finish making breakfast.”

 

“Mmmmmm, love you.”

 

“Love you too, baby.  Go back to sleep.”

 

The sheets smell like Erwin’s cologne, and Mike’s aftershave, and Eren drifts off and sleeps like the dead.

 

-

 

When Levi shows up at Erwin and Mike’s later Eren is sitting at the table in the kitchen eating bacon, dressed in one of Erwin’s shirts and nothing else.  His headache has eased back into something a little less debilitating; Mike plies him with breakfast sausage and eggs, and Erwin keeps pouring him orange juice— it’s routine, taking care of Eren when he occasionally overdoes things.

 

They seem to like doing it, even if they tease him without fail.

 

Levi has a key to their place now, and lets himself in without knocking.  He smirks at Eren when he finds them, reaching out to pet his hair.

 

“You’re alive?”

 

Eren shakes his head, and Levi laughs, and sits down beside him.

 

They all talk in soft voices, Levi’s hand absently stroking his thigh, Erwin pausing behind him to rub at Eren’s neck with one hand while he asks Mike questions about... something.  Eren isn’t really paying attention. 

 

It’s comfortable, the four of them together.  Easy. There is always something missing when he’s with Levi, or with Erwin and Mike.  A passive sort of loneliness that has only gotten worse as time goes on; Eren wants it to be all of them, all the time, just like this.  

 

It’s too much to ask, though, and so he doesn’t.

 

Just covets every last moment he gets, blissful and content with all the people he loves, and tries not to hurt when he has to let it go.

 

-

 

It’s Levi who picks up on it, just like the first time.  Levi who insists Eren deserves to be happy, to have the things he wants.  Levi who reaches when Eren holds back.

 

Levi, who moves into Erwin and Mike’s house like he’s always lived there; it isn’t the first time he’s been their roommate.   Now they are sharing more than just space, but things don’t get weird the way Eren expects.

 

They get weird in entirely new ways.

 

Eren isn’t equipped to deal with it.  Levi is underneath him in their room, thighs spread wide, making punched out little noises as Eren fucks into him when there is a knock at the door.  Levi says  _ come in,  _ and Erwin  _ does.   _ Pulls out his cock, and feeds it into Eren’s mouth, and he whines around it, and fights the urge to come.  It isn’t the first time this has happened, or the second, or the third.

 

It’s been months, and Eren doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used this.  

 

Doesn’t know if he wants to.  

 

He spends some evenings in Mike and Erwin’s bed, but mostly sleeps with Levi, at least at night.  Levi and Erwin leave for work in the mornings, and he crawls under the blankets with Mike, and sleeps most of the day away.  Sometimes the four of them sleep together, Levi on one side of him, Mike and Erwin on the other. Nothing is ever more perfect, and maybe he can’t have it all the time, but that Eren gets it at all is amazing.  

 

He spends a lot of his afternoons splayed out on the couch; head in Levi’s lap, Mike holding his hand, Erwin absently rubbing his feet.  

 

It’s home like no walls ever could be, and Eren lets himself sink into it.  Lets himself have the things he wants— 

 

—they’re his now, always. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this light, soft thing, thanks for the love my friends <3

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me nice things.


End file.
